


untitled (shaving)

by frederickdesvoeux (doomdxys)



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Pining, Pre-Canon, Trans Character, Trans Graham, Trans Male Character, trans james
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomdxys/pseuds/frederickdesvoeux
Summary: The first time Graham shaves—if he can even say it was that—comes with irritated skin and blood staining one of his best shirts. He’s twenty-nine and has a baby’s face still, as everyone keeps reminding him.(He meets another baby-faced lieutenant in the War.)
Relationships: Commander James Fitzjames/Lt Graham Gore
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26
Collections: Trans Terror Week





	untitled (shaving)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the trans terror week! Also vaguely perpetuating the myth that shaving makes hair come back stronger. It just does shh. 
> 
> Clarification, just in case: James has had a mastectomy, Graham binds. I also don't 100% go with their irl naval career.

The first time Graham shaves—if he can even say it was that—comes with irritated skin and blood staining one of his best shirts. He’s twenty-nine, unsteady feet on english soil as he tries to forget the misery from the expedition that nearly got him killed. A baby’s face still, as everyone keeps reminding him, and a constant worry that tightened his chest.

//

The decade continues and ticks over into the forties—many razor blades and soaps pass through his bathroom, the resemblance of five o’clock shadow on his cheeks, at all points of the day, becoming a matter of pride. It itches, especially in the war, where the tropic temperatures and long days ruin his ability to take care of himself.

But it becomes a ritual; the long, tiresome days requiring him to take time to himself so he locks himself away in his cabin, nothing but the habit of shaving to settle his thoughts.

//

He meets another baby-faced lieutenant during the war, the face not fitting the name he’s heard many times before. Graham finds himself jealous of the man’s face—even more so as they meet up again back home, their voices hushed and Graham is certain he can hear his heart beat through the bandages keeping his chest tucked away as the man’s fingers creep from his lower arm to his wrist.

(“Lieutenant Fitzjames,” someone else introduces the man to Graham.

“Just James,” the lieutenant corrects instantly, his hand soft and his smile aiming straight for Graham’s heart, “we are amongst officers after all.”)

James takes the lead—his shoulder touching Graham’s whenever it can and his hand lower than it should be on Graham’s back. If he notices an offset bump under the many layers of Graham’s uniform, he doesn’t mention it. it’s all encouragement Graham feels he can’t take—it’s too dangerous, he’s far from the person James seems to assume he is.

//

He cuts himself shaving one night, after narrowly avoiding getting cornered by James in a mansion’s intricate garden. He’s seen the outcome of such an event several times in his dreams—sometimes good, sometimes bad, every time an alarm siren blaring a warning for his carefully crafted career.

The shave is a stress relief, the blood less so and as he runs his fingers across the small cut he can’t help but wish it was James’. He wants to give in so badly, to risk his career and his friendship with the younger man just for that one shimmer of hope for a good ending.

They meet again the day after. “Are you okay?” in a voice that betrays he’s not talking out of politeness and a hand that wavers too close to Graham’s face. Graham wishes he could lean in, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

The apology he tries to say fails as Le Vesconte joins them and James gets to divert his attention, clearly not one for being shoved aside, however politely.

//

His career is worth giving up in eighteen forty-five—when he visits James in Brighton, on James’ insistence because the man had amazing news. news that turned out to be another arctic expedition, one James got to recruit for; one he got to recruit Graham for.

The way James asks about Graham joining makes him wish he hadn’t strapped everything down as tight as he had, his ribs pushing back against unforgiving bandages. James explains how he wanted to ask before effectively recruiting him with such a worry in his voice that it made Graham realize James had actually listened to any stories about the expedition from thirty-six—the expedition that made him start shaving.

He’s glad he started shaving, just for the way he can feel his beard feels against james’ skin. It’s more than any of his dreams had been able to conjure up and in that moment, his career is worth sacrificing. The fallout that lingers in the back of his mind gets pushed aside as he runs his fingers past James’ smooth jaw and curls them into his hair.

It feels right to kiss James—to keep him close and murmur “yes, of course. of course, i’ll go with you” against his neck. It feels more than right, an emotion he can’t clarify, doesn’t even want to clarify, when he runs the same fingers he ran through James’ hair across two scars—when James asks to undo his bandages with more love than Graham’s ever had addressed to him. (“You should’ve give in sooner,” James laughs later as they cross into the arctic, his hands enveloping Graham’s.)

Graham never stops blushing that night, mostly from the way James had laughed at Graham’s nervous confessional, but they both know James will never blame him for being cautious. They’ll have their time—in the arctic, after the arctic.

“I love you,” James says and Graham believes him more than he’s ever believed in anything else. There’s a kiss on the freckle above his eyebrow, on the one partially hidden by his beard, the trail that goes down his shoulder towards his left shoulder blade. They’ll have their time for explorations.

//

(“I’m jealous of your beard,” James mutters, interrupting Graham in the middle of his shaving ritual and promptly falling down on the cabin’s bed. They’ve been underway for five months—tiring months, where all the sneaking around feels worth it to Graham when he hears James snore into his hair.

Graham offers to teach him, shaves him like a barber would. Their kisses taste like soap and Graham laughs as he smears soap over James’ half-open mouth to silence his protesting.)

**Author's Note:**

> http://tobmenzies.tumblr.com


End file.
